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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331349">Leather Apron</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>underage young hardcore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Invasion, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Artificial Insemination, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Breeding, Captive, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dark, Dark Fantasy, Disturbing Themes, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Forbidden, Forced Breeding, Girl - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Torture, Impregnation, Macabre, Master/Slave, Molestation, Non-Consensual Bondage, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pedophilia, Rape, Rape Fantasy, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Science Fiction, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slave Trade, Ultra Hardcore, Underage - Freeform, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex, Vaginal, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, breeder, child sex, forced to breed, greed - Freeform, raped by object, vaginal rape, young girls, young sexual captives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:14:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the humans have made a deal with extraterrestrial life in order to survive, corporations have turned the planet into death camps, serving as a source of food and milk for the invading horde. Leather Apron has made his living dealing in human flesh, and has now retired to a remote breeding facility to live out his life.</p><p>Here, he has been waiting for the daughter of a rebel leader to finally reach her first breeding season, so he can finally live out his ultimate plan of revenge.</p><p>Dark themes, including underage girls being forced to breed for profit, please read tags.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>slave child, slave master</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Leather Apron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When The Others first arrived, humanity believed it had finally been granted a chance at salvation. For countless generations, our industry had polluted the air, the seas, turned nature into structures of glass and metal, remade into our own image. We fought off viruses and diseases, mother nature’s futile attempts to cut down the monster she had created. Until, finally, we had come to the end of the line. We lived in bubbles, breathing filtered air. The weak broke their backs beneath the yoke of the three big corporations, under threat of being cast outside the protective wards to a much harsher fate.</p><p>The Others landed somewhere on the continent that used to be known as Africa, back before the end of the Bosnkiak war. They brought with them the means to cure the polluted airs, clean up the seas of their filth, cure every known disease and ailment. They only asked for one thing in return:</p><p>Human flesh and mother’s milk.</p><p>The three corporations, intent on making a profit off the extraterrestrials, were only too happy to comply. They changed their compounds into human death camps, the wards that once kept out the hostile planet now keeping humanity from the far safer world outside. My father was the last of the big corps to sign. The old man always did have a soft heart. He was never cut out for this world. </p><p>At the age of 24, I was given control over my first death camp, Los Mobos, in what used to be known as New Mexico. It was, for its time, a large and progressive operation, housing 1,200 products, as we call the humans used for alien delicacies, and could butcher and process half its number in just one day. We received products from all over the world, using the medicine we had been given from The Others to make sure their food stayed free of contamination and disease. That’s how I earned the nickname “Leather Apron” because of the black leather I would wear around the facility. Times were good. Life was good. And the money from the facility allowed me to live the most lavish lifestyle money could buy.</p><p>At 40, I decided to retire from the large meat plants and take up a more enjoyable pursuit, human breeding. While the meat plants received all the fame and glory, the breeder installations were what really kept the show running. All the products had to come from somewhere. And so I bought out a corporate CEO head and took over the largest breeder facility on earth, MAGNA 1 in the part of the US that had once been Canada.</p><p>Every part of the facility was divided up into a tier system. </p><p>TIER ONE: 13 Year old new breeders</p><p>TIER TWO: Young milkers waiting to be put back on the breed list</p><p>TIER THREE: Older breeders/milkers on and off breeding list</p><p>TIER FOUR: Old breeders getting primed for transport to Los Mobos</p><p>Today was a big day for the facility. We had a total of 500 breeders going into their first breeding season. The old CEO had been something of a sentimentalist like my father, waiting for products to turn 18 and then going through a normal human breeding process, one baby per breeder. Using superior technology, I could have my scientists drop anywhere from ten to twelve eggs into young wombs. Most eggs were fertilized by a stud farm off site. But some, the ones who caught my fancy, received a much more personal touch.</p><p>Product 217 had caught my attention for any number of reasons. For one thing, she was not actually descended from any established breeder line. Her parents and grandparents had all been free people, though perhaps I am using the term “free” a bit too loosely. Her mother had once been the head of the last known resistance to the Corp’s power, a woman of such strength and tenacity she had almost brought our entire empire to its knees.</p><p>Now, 13 years later, her daughter was going to be used to help make more breeders, more studs, more milk and meat  to fill the greedy throats and bellies of the alien horde.</p><p>And Product 217 was quite stunning in her own right, a slim red haired beauty with bright green eyes and a red hot temper to match her mother’s bravado. Just within the past month she had injured several of security in various attempts to escape. Many of my men had wished me to do a brain puncture on her, which is when we take a long specialized rod to puncture certain areas of the brain. The products so treated would then be docile and zombie like until ready to be shipped off to Los Mobos. I would always decline.</p><p>Though I had been the one to order the brain puncture on her mother years ago.</p><p>I made my way down to the breeding pens in Tier one. The large dome shaped room was divided up into multiple open paneled areas, only large enough for a human to sit up on all fours. A wide belt was placed under the young female’s bellies, and a metal clamp was placed about the throat, making sure they did not attempt to move or lay down in any way. White coated scientists were swarming around the place, placing large round rods into the exposed vaginas of the girls. All of the products were virgins, so the  sensation of having what amounted to a human fist shoved into their untried holes caused quite a bit of screams, which echoed off of every surface. Over the years, you get so use to the sound you don’t even hear it anymore.</p><p>I ignored the wiggling bodies and moved down the aisle to row 2, and at the end stared over breeder pen 217, in which resided the most enraged little ball of chaos with flaming red hair and a spirited mouth.</p><p>YOU CRAZY MOTHER FUCKER I’LL KILL YOU I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU LET ME GOOOOOOOOO</p><p>“Today is a big day for you, 217,” I tell her, already starting to loosen my belt. “Oh, I’ve made a lot of children in this place. Lots and lots of them. Most of them girls, which is kind of makes me a good breeder, too, since they bring more money. But I am picky, not just any breeder will do.”</p><p>I got on my knees behind her, running my hands over her small body, exploring her little breasts and slender hips. 217 screamed, but I didn’t pull away, leaning forward to lick her labia, working my way from her clit to her hole all the way up to her asshole. I left nothing unexplored. My fingers delved into her pussy, slowly feeling how intact her hyman was. My cock twitched at the feel of how tight and ungiving she was on the inside. Truly, nothing larger than a gyno tool had ever gone in her before. </p><p>She gave a high pitched yelp as I shoved four fingers into her hole.</p><p>“You should get use to this after a while,” I told her, working my fingers in and out as she hollered and squirmed. “You’ll have your first litter three months from today, all my babies. Then you’ll be hooked up to milk machines, one suction cup over each tit, for the rest of your time here. Every three months you will be back on the breeder circuit, and I will pump you full of cum until you have another littler for me. And another. And another. When you are all used up, I’ll send you to Los Mobos. You know what happens then, right?”</p><p>She screamed, long and low, with a pathetic little whimper at the end that I interpreted as an affirmative.  </p><p>Grabbing her roughly by the hips, I guided my cock until it was right as her pussy lips, wet from the slick of my amorous administrations. I pushed into her in one deep, savage thrust, tearing apart her hymen and going all the way in until I bottomed out. I’ll give 217 credit, she didn’t cry out, just placed her head down as far as it would go and admitted defeat as I fucked her relentlessly, the force causing the top of her head to slam over and over again into the metal door of the paddock. I growled, enjoying the submission almost as much as the feel of the super tight cunt holding my cock in its vice like grip.</p><p>“I was there when your mother was brain punctured,” I told her while reaching under to pinch her small nipples. She winced, trying to get away but the belt and clamp held her in place. “God, it was such a turn on to see those bright, intelligent eyes go dumb as fuck. She didn’t even speak after that. And I would often go by her paddock to watch her, belly bloated up with young, just stare at the door for hours and hours. She was just a vagina and meat. Just like you are.”</p><p>I heaved one last, powerful thrust and emptied my aching nutsack into the young girl. Her body jerked, unused to having warm fluid shot up into her, but I grabbed her by the hair and held her fast, not wanting to lose a drop of cum. She had eggs inside of her womb right now, and soon enough my semen would be making themselves right at home.</p><p>“See you soon, bitch,” I tell her as I get to my feet.</p><p>A long stream of expletives explode from the confines of the breeding pens as I walk through the rows of Tier one. And I smile to myself. </p><p>Some things just never grow old.</p>
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